


fading (into your arms)

by whileawaythehours



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Age Difference, Aging, Body Image, Graying, Insecurity, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4374917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whileawaythehours/pseuds/whileawaythehours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is ashamed of his age. Cecil is having exactly none of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fading (into your arms)

It shouldn’t have bothered Carlos. In a town where nothing meant anything and everything meant something that it shouldn’t he really should not have had a problem with it. But where Carlos was from certain things came loaded with societal shame. Carlos tended to think of himself as relatively free from the pressures of society- he chose science over football and experiments on sound waves over experimenting with girls at school and liked guys- he wasn’t ashamed of any of that. But some pressures were so ingrained in Carlos that he couldn’t avoid them, and they’d started to cause some serious issues.

“Have I told you that I adore your hair, Carlos?” Cecil asked, running his fingers again through the hair at Carlos’ temples.

Carlos hummed, only half-listening, shuffling through the papers in his lap. He enjoyed spending evenings settled against Cecil on the sofa but on occasion his work took priority. He’d much rather save them both from dying than only ever have one more night of cuddling. Besides, Cecil didn’t mind much. He was exactly the same when planning his shows.

“It’s so voluptuous,” Cecil continued, and Carlos couldn’t resist a light chuckle, “Really, Carlos. And I love this bit-” he raked his fingers through the hair level with Carlos’ ears- “and how it fades to gray. It’s perfect. So very perfect. My perfect little-”

“Gray?”

Cecil huffed out a gentle laugh on Carlos’ neck, “Yes, Carlos, my love. Have you not looked in your mirror recently? You’re allowed to do it now, you know? They won’t transport you to the trash cans outside Arby’s any more.”

“I didn’t realise I was going gray,” Carlos replied quietly, no longer looking at his papers. Cecil was right- Carlos never really bothered to look in the mirror any more. After realising that Cecil adored him even with half of a hedge and some questionable ectoplasm in his hair, he didn’t look in a mirror to brush it any more.

“It’s so refined. I find it utterly charming.”

Carlos sniffed, shuffling his papers again, and allowed Cecil to assume that the conversation was dropped. Though, in reality, he was a little shaken. Carlos hadn’t spent much time thinking about the age difference between them, but it was rather substantial. Cecil would be shortly turning what he’d informed Carlos to be the human equivalent of thirty two, and Carlos was coming very close to forty three.

It hadn’t bothered him before- Carlos had always taken some small semblance of pride from the fact that he looked much younger than he was. But with gray hair, he faced a huge problem. Cecil looked very much the long-limbed, bright-eyed, sprightly young reporter. And if they were to walk out in public- the kind of public that Carlos was raised in- people would judge Carlos for being in a relationship with someone so much younger than him.

And while Carlos hadn’t ever been particularly interested in his own age before, the downsides to his age were beginning to show. He’d just not paid enough attention to notice before. Carlos’ stomach had started to get a little fleshier than it ever had and he’d observed recently that he didn’t quite have the stamina he once had. For a while Carlos had chalked that down to having a lot more sex than he’d had in a while. But when he looked at the situation realistically it was clearly his age catching up with him.

Carlos wasn’t a young man any more.

Of course it was difficult to hide anything from Cecil for long. Carlos was occasionally convinced that Cecil could read his mind, but Cecil often assured him that he was only capable of mind-reading every second Wednesday for a brief forty second burst.

Cecil, who had previously been extremely invested in pressing Carlos to the wall and kissing him senseless, suddenly took a step back, looking as though he’d suddenly realised the meaning of life. Naturally Cecil had known that for years and repeatedly told Carlos that the meaning of life was a slice of Big Rico’s pizza.

“Something’s wrong,” Cecil stated.

Carlos, needing to take a moment to re-orientate himself, opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment before clearing his throat, “Oh? Are you alright, Cecil?” he asked.

Cecil hummed vaguely, before taking another step back and looking Carlos up and down. Carlos discreetly covered his groin with his hands.

“You’re insecure about something,” Cecil decided, cocking his head to the side, third-eye visually dissecting Carlos.

It still made Carlos shiver to be looked at so intensely by three eyes, and he flushed. “I’m- no, I’m fine,” Carlos forced a smile onto his face and reached a hand out to Cecil, “Come on, Cecil. That was getting good.”

“It’s always good,” Cecil replied, cocking his head to the other side, “What’s the matter?”

“Cecil,” Carlos whined and Cecil’s mouth gave a small twitch, but he managed to maintain his composure. The only thing that gave him away was the tattoos beginning to writhe on his arms.

Cecil clucked his tongue. Carlos sighed. “Carlos, tell me,” Cecil replied.

Carlos ducked his head, feeling very much like he was being told off by his mother. “I’m old,” he finally ejected, cheeks flaming.

“Everyone is old. Everyone is an age. Except the angels- I fear that they are beyond the reach of the concept of age,” Cecil smiled proudly.

Of course Cecil wouldn’t completely understand. “I’m going gray, Cecil. I’m old. I can’t do things I used to be able to do. I have a belly.”

“You’re listing components of your perfection, Carlos.”

“I’m not comfortable with my body any more,” Carlos gritted out from between his teeth, looking up at Cecil desperately, “And I’m certainly not comfortable with the idea of you settling for it.”

Cecil made a noise that could only be described as a squawk and grabbed Carlos by the hand, dragging him over to the sofa in a mess of flailing limbs and whirling tattoos. Carlos fell, ungracefully, into Cecil’s side and was pinned there by Cecil’s impossibly strong arm.

“Carlos, my lovely, perfect, beautiful Carlos,” Cecil said, sounding utterly upset, “I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you, and nothing could ever change that for me.”

Carlos moved to look at Cecil, but Cecil kept him pinned.

“You hair is still my favorite hair. I love that you’re more mature than I am. Your inability to do certain things isn’t a problem- I can do them for you. And please, for the love of Big Rico’s, never, ever think that I have anything but utter adoration for every inch of you. If you begin to expand, that’s not an issue for me.”

Carlos tried to move again, and Cecil made a frustrated noise. “To me, Carlos, you are perfect in whatever form you take. I will never, ever settle for you. I am the luckiest radio host in the world. Don’t ever think that I do not want you, Carlos. Don’t.”

Cecil slowly looked down and Carlos was still. Cecil slipped his arm from where it was pinning Carlos down to his waist, where he tugged Carlos closer and kissed the top of his head lightly. Carlos burrowed closer.

“I love you, Cecil,” he mumbled into Cecil’s shoulder.

Cecil smiled softly, carding his spare hand through Carlos’ hair, “I love you too, my beautiful, perfect Carlos, and don’t you dare ever forget that.”


End file.
